


Resonant

by spoke



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Community: kh_drabble, Gen, M/M, unorthodox seductions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:29:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/pseuds/spoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Define 'unstable', please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonant

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Challenge 300: The End of the World... Or Not, at kh_drabble.

He discovered what was happening quite by accident. Passing one of the tower windows on a rest day, he glanced outside - and immediately retraced his steps. The town below looked as if an anthill of ink had been overturned, and unmistakable flecks of gold were mixed in.

He turned from the window with a snarl of irritation, ignoring the small surge of fear he’d felt. They’d not had so many of the creatures in the experiments, and it was better to think of the trouble there would be getting that mess under control. Not impossible, of course, but they’d likely lose people.

(He isn’t as disturbed as he should be, he knows that much. Isn’t now or wasn’t then, that’s an interesting question. Much more interesting than where he is and shouldn’t be.)

Just before he could get outside, he ran into Xehanort. He had one hand braced against the wall and the other to his head as if he were hurting, though there wasn’t any sign of injury. Worse, the man’s expression was... not _unlike_ any he’d seen before, but disturbing in its new intensity. Confusion, rage and triumph all passed across his face before Dilan’s eyes, and he didn’t respond to his name at first.

In the end, Dilan resorted to shaking him. “Xehanort!” 

Eyes that seemed a paler shade of gold opened, then. “Is that my name?” he whispered, and Dilan stepped back. 

(Faintly, he thinks he hears Ienzo telling him that it’s over. As if he didn’t know, as if that weren’t part of the problem. Or possibly all of it.)

“Dilan.” he says, in a voice unlike his own. He steps back, not unnerved but cautious, and Xehanort simply follows, at a slow measured pace unlike his own. “Doesn’t it bother you, Dilan? Caring for people, protecting people you know aren’t deserving of your efforts?”

He sneers as he replies, “It bothers me that they don’t make the effort to be worthy. Which is something I suspect you’re perfectly aware of - why _ask._ Why now?”

The floor trembles beneath their feet, and he thinks briefly of the others, wondering where they are and if they’re safe - while a light tainted by Darkness flares in Xehanort’s hand. There isn’t time to breathe before he closes the distance, and it’s strange - Dilan hardly registers the pain, because the shock of the other’s speed and _that weapon_ takes all his brief focus. 

As everything begins to fade, he is faintly aware of Xehanort pausing by him. “This world is falling. I will take those who are worthy with me - it’s as simple as that.” 

(It wasn’t until he woke elsewhere that those words made sense. Even within his empty shell they’d had resonance, and the fragile heart beating in him now still sang. It didn’t matter how long Ienzo stayed by the bed, nor how heavy the weight of Aeleus’s disapproval was. He did not _want_ to wake. 

Didn’t care to know whose hand played the tune.)


End file.
